Never Stop Learning By Lt. J. B. Eichelbaum
T
here is no such thing as perfection—no matter what your endeavor, you’ll always have room for improvement. This story is about the dangerous thrill many young Sailors and Marines get from speed, pushing the limits, and everything else U.S. Navy sales pitches promise. I bought my first motorcycle while I was in flight school at Pensacola. I first saw the bike in a McDonald’s parking lot by the water. The owner was leaving the area and didn’t want the fuss of moving it. He also had outgrown the 500-cc engine. It was just right for learning and beyond. The process of obtaining a motorcycle learner’s permit barely required any studying at all. My first rides were on a small, empty street in Perdido Key, Fla., where I once or twice scared myself at intersections or
8
approach July-August 2004
in gravel but managed not to fall or to get hit. I trained myself to the point that I could ride to the motorcyclesafety course and learn proper techniques. I stumbled through the course, got a passing score, and received my license. I then transferred to Norfolk, where I was able to ride in the HOV lane. I got economical gas mileage and became a proficient rider. As my confidence grew, though, so did my ego. One day while returning to Norfolk from Virginia Beach, someone passed me on a speed bike. He taunted me to race him. I knew I couldn’t keep up, but I wanted to open the throttle a bit. I topped 95 mph—fast enough for me. With concrete zipping by only a few feet below, I had a huge adrenaline rush—that is, until I saw the flashing lights
